


This will Work

by RubyofRaven



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Minor Doug/Evie (Disney: Descendants), Minor Jay/Carlos de Vil, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyofRaven/pseuds/RubyofRaven
Summary: “Oh my god, Uma!” Gil, her overly excitable boyfriend of two years, calls from the front of their tattoo parlor. “It’s him!” he says, leaning over the back of the black leather couch, nose almost touching the window that separates their store and the moderate foot traffic on the sidewalk. “He’s outside talking to the flowers again!”She rolls her eyes, trying to finish the tattoo she’s working on and feeling rather jealous of the free time between his clients that Gil is using to look at the young florist with the killer punk look working across the street.“Gil,” she says, both in exasperation and because there’s not much else to say when he’s like this: gawking at the adorable scene of said punk florist decked out in an apron and seemingly having animated conversations with the plants he’s watering. Sometimes it even looks like he’s dancing amongst them.orThat wonderful Flower shop/Tattoo parlor AU we’ve all been missing.
Relationships: Gil/Harry Hook, Gil/Harry Hook/Uma, Harry Hook/Uma
Comments: 13
Kudos: 64





	This will Work

**Author's Note:**

> I just started asking myself, “Hey! What are some common AUs found in other fandoms but not in this fandom? Let’s see… Oh! I know!” 
> 
> And so this fic was born.
> 
> -Enjoy!

“Oh my god, Uma!” Gil, her overly excitable boyfriend of two years, calls from the front of their tattoo parlor. “It’s him!” he says, leaning over the back of the black leather couch, nose almost touching the window that separates their store and the moderate foot traffic on the sidewalk. “He’s outside talking to the flowers again!”

She rolls her eyes, trying to finish the tattoo she’s working on and feeling rather jealous of the free time between his clients that Gil is using to look at the young florist with the killer punk look working across the street.

“Gil,” she says, both in exasperation and because there’s not much else to say when he’s like this: gawking at the adorable scene of said punk florist decked out in an apron and seemingly having animated conversations with the plants he’s watering. Sometimes it even looks like he’s dancing amongst them.

“But Uma,” Gil nearly whines. “He’s so cute.” 

Uma rolls her eyes, even if she secretly agrees. 

They’ve both been guilty of staring at the young man across the street with the wicked grin and the swagger in his step. It would have been awkward between her and Gil if they weren’t both clearly into him and open to accepting a third party into their relationship. Still, knowing all that, they haven’t done anything about it.

It’s been over three months of just staring.

Gil smiles and nods to himself, clearly having come to some sort of a decision. “I’m gonna go over there and talk to him.”

Now that has Uma looking up from the heart she’s currently tattooing on her client’s bicep. “No!”

Gil, startled, turns around. “Why not?”

“Because,” because of a lot of reasons, like the fact that she’ll be damned if her boyfriend goes and meets the newest, hottest punk on the block without her, especially since _she_ was planning on meeting him first, “We have to meet him together, because that’s what couples do.”

Gil lets his mouth drop open into an ‘oh’ before nodding and letting himself plop down on the couch facing her. “That makes sense,” he says with a renewed megawatt smile and a laugh. “Plus, that makes it easier for when we ask him out on a date.”

Uma, who has resumed tattooing her very silent and amused client, who’s dead set on getting a little heart tattoo with his fiancé's name inside it, tries not to make her momentary pause noticeable as her brain and heart sort of short circuit for a minute. “And why would we do that?” she asks, purposefully nonchalant.

Gil snorts. “Because we both like him, duh,” he says easily, leaning back on the couch cushions as if such a thing were so simple.

Uma goes to apply more ink to her needle, sparing a glance at Gil, and the man across the street in question, while she does so. “And what makes you think he’ll like one of us back? Let alone be cool with dating both of us?”

Gil’s eyebrows furrow and he goes to open his mouth, but before he can say anything, Uma’s client interrupts.

“From what I hear,” he says, “he’s pretty open for dating any gender. I don’t know about multiple partners at once, but I doubt he’d be against it.”

Gil beams, getting up from his spot on the couch to come loom over the other man’s seated form. “Doug, you know him?”

“Well,” the leaner man says, looking uncomfortable at the sudden attention. “Not personally, but...”

Uma looks up from her work at him, quirking one of her perfectly pierced eyebrows. “Explain.”

“Well, my fiancé, Evie, says that he’s one of her best friend’s exes, I guess. I’m not really clear on the details there, and everything I know about him is just in passing, so-“

“His name,” Uma says.

Doug looks perplexed. “Um- I don’t-“

“What is his name?” she demands again.

Doug visibly shrinks under the weight of her gaze. “Uh- I think it’s Harry. Yeah,” he nods to himself, “Harry Hook, I think. Or something like that.” But Gil looks satisfied and is already turning his attention back to the window to look at the young man that’s so captivated his attention.

“Harry,” he murmurs to himself, smiling impossibly brighter than he was before. 

Uma rolls her eyes, effectively breaking her stare down with her client. Doug relaxes once more as her attention drifts back to working on his tattoo, but, even so, she can’t help the self satisfied smirk forming on her lips.

_Harry Hook._

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Harry,” his co-worker calls out to him from the front of the store, the obnoxious little bells overhead ringing as Carlos opens the door fully, “I’m here.”

“I know, I heard,” Harry huffs, slinging his worn messenger bag over his head. He’s already deposited his apron on one of the hooks on the wall and placed his headphones around his neck for the expected walk home. “I’m happy te leave now that the pup has arrived,” he continues, coming out of the back room to greet the white-haired young man at the register.

“Oh, _ha ha,_ Harry. You’re hilarious,” he replies as Harry jumps over the counter to land by his side.

Harry just smiles at him. “So, what will it be today, hm pup? More watchin’ of the long haired Arabian across the street?”

His freckled coworker blushes. “It’s not like that.”

“Ah,” Harry says with a nod and a mock solemn look. “It’s not at all. Ye jus’ want to devour the hunky-”

The shorter male grabs his arm and uses it as leverage to clamp a hand over Harry's mouth. “Stop!” He looks out the window, frantically searching for the object of his affection as if he would suddenly pop up here in the store at any moment or, stars forbid, could hear their conversation from all the way across the street.

Harry rolls his eyes before nipping at the hand in front of him.

“Hey!” Carlos yelps, recoiling and drawing his hand to his chest. He glares at Harry while massaging his injured palm.

“Ye try it again, pup,” Harry says, leaning down into his coworker’s personal space, “and I jus’ might bite somethin’ else.” He snaps the air in front of Carlos’ face, causing the other young man to flinch. Harry laughs even as Carlos shoves him away.

“Not funny, Harry,” he tells him.

“Oh!” he says. “But it is!”

Carlos doesn’t bother responding to that, shaking his head as he makes his way around the counter and heads toward the back. “Whatever. Hope you had fun doing your own ‘stalking’, Harry.”

The taller male doesn’t even bat an eye at being called out on it. “Indeed, I did. Thanks fer askin',” he says to Carlos’ retreating form.

“Bye Harry,” he says with a dismissive wave.

“Toodle-loo, pup!” Harry replies with much more cheer before quickly striding out the front door of the shop, triggering those annoying bells again. (One day, he swears, he’s going to murder those bells. They’re worse than his father’s grandfather clock that likes to tick-tock away all the time.)

Once outside (and, thankfully, away from those bells), he opts to put on his headphones and start his walk home to the sound of loud, blaring drums and a rocking base. The sun is still high since he took the early shift today, so there’s still plenty of afternoon left to enjoy.

As he heads down the street, he chances a glance at the tattoo parlor, the source of his and Carlos’ constant distraction.

Through it’s large window, he can see the long haired male he casually teased his coworker about up front at one of the display counters, showing some potential new clients the shop's numerous pieces of artwork. At one of the workstations on the other side of the large room, he can see a blond working steadily away on someone's back while the boss (because what else could the badass with teal hair, who can send her employees scurrying with just a glance, be?) isn’t anywhere in sight, which means she’s likely in the back or left to go get something on break. 

Honestly, though all the workers there are sort of his type (A dominating woman? Check. Men that look like they could pin him down effortlessly? Check.), he finds himself most drawn to watching the blond and teal haired couple (because that’s what they are, if some of their interactions are anything to go by). And Harry’s not a narcissist or anything, but he doesn’t think he’s imagining the blond lad staring rather obviously at him through the window, especially when he’s out watering his babies. (Yes, he calls the flowers his babies. Shut up.) So if he puts a little extra pep in his step and twirls a little extra when he feels that extra pair of eyes on him, who’s to blame him for showing off the goods more appropriately?

Oddly enough, he doesn’t ever catch the tatted-up boss woman watching him like her counterpart. He tells himself that that’s okay, but Harry’s greedy and he’d much prefer more than just the eyes of the blond on him (though, that’s not to discredit the great job he’s doing. It’s very flattering and a little- _well_ ).

 _If he sometimes dreams or fantasizes about the both of them, together or separately, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own,_ he thinks before tearing his eyes away from the storefront and continuing his way towards home.

\------------------------

It’s a few days after their talk with Doug, and subsequent learning of the punk-dressing florist’s name, that Gil and Uma finally decide to bite the bullet and meet ‘Harry Hook’ face to face.

Leaving the tattoo parlor in their employees' capable hands, they make the short trek across the street and enter the quaint, little flower shop, triggering the bells on top of the door to ring out. 

“I’ll be with ye in jus’ a minute!” a male voice with a distinct scottish accent calls out from the back of the shop. 

Gil turns to her, all wide-eyed and awed. “Even his voice is amazing.”

Uma huffs a laugh, shaking her head, before leading them up to the counter and taking in the rest of the shop. Shelves upon shelves of small and large potted plants and various garden trinkets line the walls, and two strategically placed lines of tables, similarly covered in various plants, divide up the shop’s interior into three main aisles. Closer to the floor along the walls and at the feet of these tables are different types of stands for flower arrangements along with an assortment of blown glass and metal garden ornaments scattered amongst them.

“Alright.” ‘Harry’ finally appears, a creamy pink tipped flower petal stuck in his hair with some miscellaneous green leaves scattered over the rest of his person, as if he just got into a fight with a bouquet. “What can I do for ye?” he asks. His blue eyes are outlined in black and seem to pierce into their very souls. From the way Gil fails to respond, apparently hypnotized, it’s up to Uma for introductions.

“Hi. I’m Uma and this is Gil.” She jerks her thumb at her boyfriend who lets out a short laugh and gives a small wave, seemingly reanimated. The dark haired man in front of them just cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed, like he’s trying to work out a puzzle.

“Okay?”

Before Uma can continue, Gil just comes right out and says it. “Hi Harry! It is Harry right? Our friend Doug told us about you. We’ve been watching you through the window like a lot.” 

Uma face palms.

The florist, however, perks up at this. “Ye have?” he asks, leaning over the counter with a shark-like grin.

Uma figures there's no hiding the staring or their intentions now. “Yes,” she admits, plastering a smile on her face. She tries to will away the blush she can feel heating her cheeks as she glares daggers at her idiotic boyfriend.

Gil smiles sheepishly at her, but then all eyes turn to the other young adult in the room as he hauls himself over the counter and into the small space between Uma and Gil, throwing an arm around the blond’s more muscular shoulders and plastering himself to his side. “Tell me then, do the window dressings make me look fat?

Gil laughs, blushing bright pink at the close proximity and seemingly lost in the other man’s expectant gaze. “What?”

Harry just rolls his eyes before reiterating, “I asked, do the displays in the window accentuate me weight any?”

“Um, no?”

Harry grins manically. “Right answer,” he tells Gil, patting his cheek fondly with his free hand, his other arm is currently encircling the blond's shoulders and pulling him indecently closer and closer.

Uma can’t help but roll her eyes at the antics of these two men, but, at the same time, she can’t really help enjoying the pretty picture they make, with one of them leaning all over the other - and they aren't even together as a couple yet, or even friends. They hadn’t popped the question, so to speak, and already the other young man was all over her beefy boyfriend. This was either a really good sign for them or a really bad one.

“Are these yer actual muscles?” Harry asks, openly groping one of Gil’s biceps. “Do ye work out?”

Probably good, if the way the dark haired man is sneaking glances at her between squeezes, trying to gage a reaction from her, seeing how far he can push her before she tells him to stop, is any indication

 _Oh yes. He knows what he’s doing, the little brat,_ she thinks, biting her lower lip as she watches the scene play out

Gil doesn’t laugh, but it’s a near thing as he grins and flexes his arm muscles, much to the delight of the apron-wearing shop worker. “Well, yeah. Of course.” Harry has now taken to tracing the intricate tattoo work on one of Gil's upper arms. “Don’t you?”

“Hm?” he hums distractedly before finally dragging his eyes away from the lines he’s tracing to meet Gil’s. “Oh, aye. I suppose I do.”

Without missing a beat, Gil earnestly asks, “So can I see your muscles, too?” eyeing Harry’s own lack of sleeves and rather toned arms. “Unless I’m being too forward,” the blond suddenly says, backpedaling, as if they haven’t already crossed the line into groping territory, as if this man they’ve only just met isn’t still tracing the ink on Gil's arm with the pads of his fingers. 

Harry blinks, hands stilling at the overwhelming sunshine and naivety Gil just _exudes_ , before grinning widely. 

“Sure ye can!” he says with a huff of laughter, before hoisting himself up to sit on the counter. “Ye can even touch ‘em, if ye like.” And there’s really no way to misinterpret that mischievous lit to his voice, nor his open leering at the blond as he leans over, presenting his arm to the other man, flexing for him.

Still, Gil seems to miss or otherwise ignore such flirty tones because he’s not even blushing when he grabs Harry’s bicep, squeezing as the Scottish man watches the proceedings with intense, unblinking blue eyes. “Cool,” Gil says, before moving his gaze to Harry's again. Only then does he blush, realizing how close the other man’s face is. The brunet quirks an eyebrow at Gil’s pause, licking his lips, gaze flickering down to Uma's boyfriend’s lips meaningfully. Before the tension can get too heavy, however, Gil seems to snap out of it and quickly turns his gaze to Uma, innocent smile back in place. “Uma, you’ve gotta try this!” 

Uma suddenly feels the full weight of those blue eyes on her, and it’s a heady feeling. 

_Oh yeah. This will work._

“Do I?” she asks, purposefully nonchalant, hands and gaze skimming idly over the nearby plants.

“Yeah, Uma~,” comes that accented voice, a teasing song to her ears, drawing her gaze back to those mischievous eyes and an equally naughty smirk. “I’ve got two arms,” he tells her, extending his other arm out to his side. “One fer Gilly and one fer ye.”

She can’t help but laugh, and both men in front of her noticeably perk up at the sound.

“Good, because you’ll be needing both of them,” she tells Harry before stepping forward and tugging him down from the countertop by his proffered arm.

“Uma-?” Gil starts to ask, but cuts himself off as she yanks a more than willing Harry down by his hair and smashes his lips together with hers.

It’s a mess. 

It’s an aggressive meeting of lips, and then teeth get involved so she can bite away that mischievous smirk of his, and next she’s making him gasp as she pulls on his hair some more. By the time she’s done with him, he’s an overloaded mess with pupils blown wide and hair in even more disarray than when he first showed up behind the counter. 

She lets her hand come down from its place tangled amongst dark locks of hair and lets her thumb trace his thoroughly swollen lips, all while blue eyes stay intensely focused on her, waiting for her next move.

“Gil,” she says, still looking at Harry, “He’s all yours.” And then she’s pushing the wide eyed brunet into the blond’s waiting arms. 

Her boyfriend catches the stumbling man, only giving Harry a moment to catch his breath and look up at him before getting swept up into another kiss.

 _Yeah,_ Uma thinks, licking her lips, _this will work._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think of all this down in the comments below, and/or another indication, like a kudos or a bookmark, to let me know how much you guys are liking my writing. ;D It makes my day to hear from you guys and see that you are enjoying my work!
> 
> And thank you to my awesome editor, MMR, for helping me through the editing process of one of my fics once more. You are invaluable.


End file.
